In the Shadows of the Temple
by Zarabethe
Summary: The mysterious brash rogue that showed up wounded on the doorstep of the secluded Temple to Elune left her life almost as quickly as he entered it, but for one reserved priestess of Elune, his memory would stay with her forever. Set 537 years before the first chapter of Scepter.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Notes: If you've read my other stories, you'll notice that this piece is a little different than what I normally tackle. It is sparse, dialogue-driven, and in the first person PoV. The good thing is that since each chapter is short, it will be updated frequently as you begin to piece together their story. This story exists in the Scepter continuum, far before it starts. **

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"You're a pretty one for a priestess, aren't you, Love?"

I pursed my lips together and was grateful that the low light of the temple hid any rebellious blush against my cheeks. I kept my mind on my task as I carefully washed the wounds on the man's bare torso. It was bad enough to have to sully my hands blessed by Elune Herself to wash and tend to a random vagrant, but to deal with this man's impertinent questions and overt inappropriateness was enough to try anyone's patience. I kept my eyes down and my voice disapproving as I spoke.

"We are all the same under Elune, sir."

The man's low chuckle did nothing to quell my discomfort. "Of course we are."

He pushed himself up on his elbows, grunting at the pull against his wounds. I leaned back at the movement, waiting for him to get comfortable. He had appeared outside the Temple gate in the small of the morning, bleeding profusely from multiple stab wounds and his face a mottled shade of dark blueish grey underneath the deep hood he kept pulled as far forward as possible. He only relinquished the hood after being brought in by the guards, safely out of sight from the outside world. As one of the more skilled healers available, he had been given over to my care. I twisted my mouth minutely more crooked as I wrung out the cloth I was using and wondered what I had done lately, to incur the wrath of Elune that I was to be tested in this manner. The man's low voice brought me out of my thoughts.

"I wonder though, Miss-" he paused, waiting for me to supply a name. I smoothed the displeasure from my face and kept my voice neutral.

"You may refer to me as Priestess."

The man's mouth turned up into a one-sided smile. "Alright then Love, _Priestess_. I do wonder though, if Elune truly thinks men such as I are equals to the ones that you are most familiar with."

I looked him in the face fully then. Despite the swelling around his eyes and cheekbones and the scabbed over cuts on his face, his silver eyes seemed to hold a deep intelligence. In the low light, their glow highlighted strands of his dark blue bangs. I resisted the urge to brush the hair out of his eyes so that his face was not half-hidden from me. I straightened my back and returned to my task of cleaning his wounds.

"I'm sure that Elune can make her own judgments, sir."

His quiet laugh drifted up to my ears again. He did not speak again as I bound his wounds with herbs and clean linen bandages, and I did not look at his face until I was finished with my task. I met his eyes as briefly as possible as I bowed and took my leave.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Notes: Wow, I'm so impressed you all like my little experiment so far! And you are all far too clever, of course :). **

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"Not all of you here are so determined to cloak yourselves in anonymity, you know."

I gritted my teeth and did not answer as I tended to the duties around the healing wing of the Temple. The unexpected visitor this morning had alerted me to the disorder that was the supply closet, and despite my reluctance to spend time in this rogue's presence, I could not in good faith leave a mess that needed fixing. He did not seem to mind that I was ignoring him, and continued talking as I restocked the linen bandages and antiseptic.

"Now Priestess Lenora, and Priestess Mavilan, they had no problem sharing with me their names. They were very friendly this morning, in fact."

I heard a shift in the blankets, and at the very edge of my vision, I saw him lean up on one elbow to address me more directly. I sorted the potions in their vials, putting them in their properly labeled place, but in spite of myself, I snuck quick glances at him under my eyelashes.

"But not you, Love. _Priestess_."

"I am not concerned with what others have chosen to disclose. Here in the Temple I am simply Priestess, a Servant of Elune, and I do not cling to my individuality, so that I may become closer to Her presence."

They were lofty words, but they sounded nervous to my ears. As if I needed to defend myself to this ruffian. My hand shook as I put the last vial in its holder, and it hit the one next to it hard. The glass was old and it shattered in my hand, slicing my palm open. I gasped in shock and dropped it, holding my hand tightly to staunch the blood that was dripping onto the floor. Almost immediately, the rogue was kneeling beside me, holding his own hands over mine, pressing a clean bandage from the table onto the cut. To my horror, I felt the tips of my ears grow red and I couldn't stop my voice from shaking.

"Please release my hands."

He complied, holding his hands up and away from me. "Just helping, Love. You better take care of that before you lose too much blood."

Feeling the flush travel from my ears to my cheeks, I bit down on my cheek hard, enough to focus my mind, and healed the cut over. When the glow receded, the rogue pulled himself back to standing, and I saw his face turn pale as he gripped the edge of his cot. I felt a pang of guilt for being sharp with him for trying to help, almost immediately followed by anger. I did not ASK him to help.

"Sir, you should not be up from your cot yet. Your injuries have barely begun to heal."

"I'm seeing that." His voice sounded strained.

I had a fluttering feeling in my stomach that this entire situation was dissolving into something out of my control. I helped the injured rogue back onto his cot without a word, and as quickly as I could cleaned up the broken vial. The late afternoon shift came in then, talking quietly behind their hands, and I saw my escape. With only a sharp nod, I fled the room.


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Notes: after a long writing sprint, this story is complete. I will post one chapter per day, and try to keep author's notes short. **

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"Why do you cover your hair?"

The rogue looked more reserved this morning. He had pulled open his injuries yesterday afternoon I had learned, and had been reprimanded by the head priestess to stay in bed, for Elune's sake, unless he wanted to meet Her personally. Someone else had taken the task of re-bandaging him: I had spent the entire rest of the day in prayers and meditation until my heart rate stayed at a reasonable level. I was determined to remain clear-headed and focus today.

"It is a sign of modesty. It is not required, but it is comfortable."

He simply nodded, and I was grateful for the silence. The second day of healing was always the worst, when you discovered all the aches and pulled muscles you didn't realize you had. If he stayed still, we were to try more healing spells that evening, and he would be in far less pain then.

"What color is it?"

"I don't see how that is at all your business." I delivered the line without looking up from my folding. In the back of my mind, I congratulated myself on my detachment.

He laughed that quiet laugh that seemed to be characteristic of him. "Always so secretive, Love."

Just that quickly, what he said got under my skin without my meaning it to. "I would prefer to not be called that."

"Oh ho ho!" His laughter was louder now, triumphant. I set my mouth in a line and looked up at him. His silver eyes fairly danced with mischief. "Well then Love, as soon as you give me another name to call you, I'll be happy to stop."

I set down the blanket that I was wrinkling further and just short of glared in his direction. "I did. You may call me Priestess."

"That is not a name, _Priestess_. It is a title, and as anonymous as you try to be. Therefore any name will do. You should be lucky it is a fair one, and not something horrid."

He was sitting up now to mock me, and with a great effort, I redirected his focus.

"You should lie still, so that we can try to heal you this evening. Another tear, and you might not survive it."

"Your concern for me is touching, Love."

Regardless, he followed my advice, and lay back against the pillows. As I passed by him to put the blankets on the shelf, I thought I saw a flicker of anticipation cross his face.


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Notes: I think this has become my most popular beginning fic. I'm flattered!**

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"There is fel energy in this wound, there has to be."

High Priestess Bethaniel's voice was a strained whisper as she hovered her hands over the rogue's bare torso. Two male priests, the only ones serving in the Temple currently, held the man down on the table as he thrashed and moaned violently. The healing was not going well: it seemed that the wounds re-opened as soon as we closed them, and he was in an abnormal amount of agony. My hands trembled as I tried to channel another pain relief spell into him. He cried out, nearly tearing himself out of the priests' grasp. All of us, the three priestesses and the two priests, leapt to hold him from injuring himself further.

"Abilene!" Bethaniel's voice was sharp as she leaned on him with her entire upper body. "Go stand by his head, keep him calm."

"Yes High Priestess." I did as I was told, taking his head in both hands, keeping it lined up with the rest of his body. A priest each held one of his arms, and Priestess Mavilan lay across his legs. Bethaniel's voice rose in a chant that I recognized to draw out fel energy, and preemptively I tried to catch the man's attention to distract him.

"Sir, sir!" I said uncertainly. For the first time, I regretted that I had withheld my name, that I had kept my secrets so locked down from the outside. I smoothed his blue hair away from his sweaty forehead, and whispered a soothing incantation, hoping that it would be enough. There was a brief flash of dull green light just outside of my vision and I started at the same time that he did, pulling away from my hands and knocking his forehead against my chin. Stars burst into my vision and I held his head down firmly as he gasped in pain.

"I have it," said Bethaniel, at the same time that the rogue relaxed down onto the table. I continued to smooth his hair back from his face, wondering what sort of trouble he had gotten himself into to get such a cursed wound.

"What kind of person would lace a weapon with fel energy?" It was a rhetorical musing, but the High Priestess took it as seriously as she did everything else.

"A mortal enemy." Her sombre voice discouraged anymore conversation as she finally was able to bind his wounds together effectively. I released my hold on his head when she finished, but my attention was captured by a faint whisper. I looked down in surprise, and saw that he was watching me out of dull silver eyes. He was obviously still in pain, but he cleared his throat so he could speak to me. I leaned closer to catch his voice.

"...Reyloran." He swallowed and tried again, louder. "I am called Reyloran."

I inclined my head at him. "Thank you, Reyloran, for your name."

I'm not sure what the expression on my face was, but it seemed to satisfy him, and he nodded before closing his eyes and relaxing into unconsciousness.


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Notes: Most of you have figured this whole thing out by now. I apologize in advance.**

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"Abilene."

"Sorry, Love?" He looked up from where he was leafing through a pamphlet on Elune that I had found for him. His eyes had dark shadows under them from his healing experience, but the High Priestess had done well: all the fel had been drawn out of him, and he would make a complete recovery. I twisted my hands together where they were tucked into the sleeves of my priestess robes.

"Abilene. My name is Abilene Shadowleaf."

His face broke into the most magnificent smile I'd ever seen. It seemed to light up the entire room, and I could not hope to do anything about how flustered I felt. He set down the pamphlet and swung his legs around so he was sitting at the edge of his cot facing me.

"Abilene," he repeated, as if it were the most fascinating name in existence. He held his hand out, and I will never know what force on Azeroth drove me to take it. He shook my hand reverently.

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Abilene Shadowleaf. I am Reyloran Darkblade."


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Note: Oh Abilene: he has you right where he wants you. **

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"There is really not that much to do around here, is there?"

I glanced up from my needlework. I may have made up a dozen excuses in my head for why I needed to spend my mornings watching over a nearly-well rogue in the healing wing, but I could still pretend to get something done while I was here.

"Not that embroidery and prayer vigils aren't fascinating and noble work, of course."

His eyes sparkled at me through the fringe of his dark blue hair, his face half-hidden from me like usual. It occurred to me, that for how much he commented on my desire to be anonymous, I knew hardly more about him than his name and that he had made someone very powerful very angry. I set my stitching aside, and went directly to the linen closet across the room. Reyloran lifted both of his eyebrows in query when I handed him a folded piece of muslin.

"You'll have to wear a shirt, if I'm to take you outside to see the gardens." I paused, suddenly feeling unsure of myself. "That is, if you're feeling well enough to leave the healing ward for a bit."

I caught his grin briefly as he shrugged the shirt on over his bandages. "Of course, Love." His face was contrite when I saw it again. "Forgive me. Abilene."

I ducked my head, trying to not let him see the half-smile on my face. I tried to remember not to hurry as I led the way out of the healing ward. He kept up with me with only a slight limp, staying at my side as we passed through the stone corridor. He was not the tallest man I had ever met, and couldn't compare with some of the massive feral druids that were mostly asleep in the Dream. But he was tall enough that he had to stoop under branches that I passed by everyday without realizing it. Soon we were surrounded on all sides by cool, concealing foliage. I breathed in the smell of the garden, feeling its calm soothe away any apprehension I had about traveling the grounds with only the two of us. I watched his face as he took in the carefully tended flora, running a hand over the ivy vines that twisted in patterns along the edge of the path.

"This is my favorite part of the Temple."

"I can see why." He bent suddenly to scoop something off the ground, and I heard him groan as he straightened back up.

"I must stop doing that," he mumbled half to himself. He held out his hand, and with more than a little trepidation, I gave him mine. He put something inside of it, folding the fingers around it carefully.

He watched my face as I opened my hand. Inside was a dark purple peacebloom bud. It was just starting to open, the petals delicate and lovely.

"Beautiful, and full of mystery, just like you." His voice was very close to my ear, and I was afraid to move, caught in the magic web of his words. "This peacebloom is hidden from everyone, even itself. But even a blind man can tell that it is still a flower. It just hasn't bloomed yet."

I folded my fingers back around the peacebloom, feeling something raw inside of me as he stepped away, wandering further down the path. I watched him as he studied the decorations scattered throughout the garden, pausing now and then to examine one closely. I waited where I was, no longer interested in the quiet solitude of the plants. Presently he came back, and we returned to the healing ward, where I carefully tucked the peacebloom into my sewing basket.


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's Notes: Interesting idea on trust in this chapter. What do you think, readers?**

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"...does not exist in any of the records that I have searched. It is clear that he is nothing more than a petty thief on the run."

I pulled up short outside of the High Priestess's office, nearly dropping my candle. The voices of Bethaniel and her two sisters came drifting out clearly in the night air.

"We should toss him out on his dishonest ear, the lying brute."

All the air seemed to leave the corridor.

"Now Sister, there's no need to be crude. He is nearly healed, and he will no longer have the immunity granted by the Temple. We shall turn him over to the Sentinels and let them handle it. These things tend to take care of themselves."

I ran, no longer caring if the High Priestess caught me. I burst into the healing ward, my heart in my throat. There were no other patients in the room, and in the still air for a moment I thought he was already gone. But he started and sat up at my fast encroaching footsteps.

"Abilene?" he whispered, his face quickly changing from confusion to alarm. "What's wrong?"

"Is it true, that you are nothing more than a thief?" The truth burst out from my lips, and even in the dark, I could see a shadow pass over Reyloran's face before he ducked his head and chuckled quietly.

"Your fellow priestesses do not trust me very much."

I would not be put off from this discussion so easily. "Have you given them a reason to? You show up with an injury from a powerful foe, do not give us a name except under duress, and offer no information about yourself."

I was ashamed to feel tears prick at the corners of my eyes as I whispered the last. "What are we supposed to think?"

"Abilene." He was sitting on the edge of the cot now, and reached out for my hand. I let him pull me toward him, against everything I had just said. I stood facing him, although I could not make my eyes lift further than my hands, which he held between his. When I did not respond, he repeated my name, even more gentle than before.

"Abilene." He rubbed his thumb over the scar on my palm. I had healed it sloppy, too flustered to do more than close it quickly. The reminder that I had acted hastily and would always have a mark to show for it, did not settle well in the pit of my stomach. His eyes, when he brought them up to meet mine, were more solemn than I had seen them thus far.

"You say that you have no reason to trust me. But I ask you; what reason have I given you to not? Have I not shown that I am far more interested in your welfare than my own? Did I not give you my name freely, before you gave me yours?"

I nodded, feeling numb inside of my chest. He sighed, and his face seemed pinched, on its way to disappointment, and it was startling how much it hurt that it was directed at me.

"Have you ever asked me any of these questions? I have never held anything from you."

I had already embarrassed myself so much, but in the still of the early night, I needed to hear the truth, regardless.

"How did you come by your wounds?"

Reyloran's face lifted in a crooked smile. "I angered a very important warlock. He did not appreciate the liberation of his precious artifacts."

At first I felt relief that he had answered me so readily, but then his words sunk in and I felt my stomach drop.

"So...you are a thief."

Reyloran released my hands, and I felt a little unsteady in the shifting world. "From a man who was clearly evil. How do you think he came about those artifacts? He ripped them right from the souls of his victims. So is it really stealing, if it is from one who is a far worse thief than you?"

I picked my next words out carefully, knowing that it was not my heart that was directing them, but my increasingly absent sense of self-preservation.

"I am not confident that I should be placing my trust so willingly in the hands of one who steals from others, no matter how evil."

He pulled back from me completely then, and I tried not to notice how it felt as if a hole had been ripped from inside me. He leaned back in his cot, adjusting the blankets, and didn't meet my eyes for moment. When he did, they were not angry, as I feared, but contemplative.

"There is much talk, both here in your Temple, and in the ever-growing world around us, of the concept of trust. How you can earn it, and what proper penitence should be taken if you break it."

His eyes were so intense that it felt like they touched my soul.

"I tend more toward the idea that trust is not some kind of debt to pay into, but a choice, given freely. Good night, Abilene."


	8. Chapter 8

**Author's Notes: Song Cue: Style by Taylor Swift. Not the words, just the music and ambiance. Go ahead, go find it on Youtube. I'll wait.**

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My prayers did nothing to comfort me that night. I vacillated from prostrate on the cool stone floor, begging silently for my heart to not ache, to digging my hands into my scalp, hot tears running down my face, intensely angry at emotions that I could no longer seem to control. I paced the floor, I knelt motionless, I did everything I could to plead that a direction be sent my way, any kind of sign to let me know that Elune's daughter still found Her favor, even after everything that I had done. I was given no respite, and when the dawn broke through the high window of my room, I had not slept a wink.

I claimed illness from morning prayers, and did not even bother to wash or dress properly for the day. I laid in bed, listless, feeling both unbearably hot and ice cold beneath my shift. If not for the events of the past week, I would be alarmed I had caught some horrible disease. As I once again kicked every blanket onto the ground in frustration, I knew that this was not a sickness that could be healed by a Temple priestess.

By evening time, with nothing to eat, no spiritual answer, and unbearably restless, I sat up in bed. I pulled my sweat-soaked shift off, and pulled on a simple robe. I covered my hair carefully with a lace shawl, tucking the loose strands up inside. Wrapping a belt around my waist, I vacated my room and padded quickly down the corridor in bare feet. It had been nearly 24 hours since I had entered my room, and I had noticed no commotion outside my door. It was possible that he had taken his leave before the Sentinels could be called. He was to be pronounced completely recovered any day. I passed a few of my fellow priestesses on the way, and they nodded but kept to their path on the opposite side of the hallway. Illness was uncommon in the Temple of Elune, and it was usually assumed to be a sign of an unsettled spirit.

I entered the healing ward with no hesitation. Whether he was there or gone, I was prepared.

He glanced up from where he was buckling on soft leather vambraces. His expression lit up into happy surprise, and he stood to greet me.

"Abilene! I thought I would not get a chance to say farewell." He held his arms out away from his sides. He was completely dressed in the mended clothes he arrived in. The stitches were so neat in his dark grey shirt that it was impossible to see the holes where a knife had punctured them. I should know: I did the repair myself.

He seemed unsure when I did not immediately give him a reply, so he continued fastening his leather armor while he spoke. "They say I am back to full health, so I will be departing tonight, before any false accusations can be brought with the morning."

I stepped closer to him, nearly silent on my bare feet. He watched me cautiously from underneath the infuriating lock of blue hair that permanently covered half of his face. I had kept my mind open as I had walked the trail from my room to the healing ward. There had been no answer from my Goddess. This decision was all mine. With surprisingly calm hands, I reached up to my lace shawl. I pulled out the pins, one by one, and lay them on the cot beside us. Reyloran's eyebrows furrowed in confusion, and he reached out one hand to stop me.

"Abilene-" he started, but I had finished with the hairpins, and I pulled the covering off of my head in one movement. There I stood before him, bare-headed, bare-footed, bare-souled.

"Trust is my choice."

He took in a breath, his silver eyes burning with a heat I had only caught a glimpse of before. He pulled off one half glove, and laid his bare palm against my cheek. He slid it slowly up, entangling his fingers into the untamed purple chaos that was my loosened hair. I closed my eyes briefly at the sensation: no one had touched my hair since I was a child. No one had even seen my hair since I had dedicated my life to Elune. He leaned forward, pressing a gentle kiss to my temple, and holding his mouth there to whisper.

"Come with me."


	9. Chapter 9

**Author's Notes: Only Words.**

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"Ssh, Abilene, my love, this is not the time for tears."

"You are leaving."

"I will return."

"Will you? Do you swear?"

"To this very spot."

He tangled his hands in my hair and kissed me again.

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**One more chapter. **


	10. Chapter 10

**Author's Notes: I'm posting this one early so I don't forget on the way out the door in the morning. Notes at the end.**

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"Priestess Abilene?"

I paused in the corridor that led down to the gardens. I had always walked this path, since the first year I had given my life over to Elune, but never with the intensity that I now traveled it. Every evening and every morning, I paced down the white stone walkway, circled the koi ponds, and slipped past the silverleaf hedges to the secluded statue of Elune in the middle of a vibrant patch of peacebloom. High Priestess Saranell stood in front of me, unintentionally blocking my route. I was not as familiar with Bethaniel's younger sister as I was with the other residents of the Temple, but I did recognize her by sight.

"Yes High Priestess?"

She stepped to the side, giving me room to walk. "May I join you on your walk?"

I inclined my head passively. There was not much left inside of me for opinions. We continued down into the gardens, the first morning light shining brilliantly through the trees before us.

"We received the shipment of replacement silver candlesticks this morning."

I nodded, feeling my throat grow tight. I recognized immediately where this conversation was going. Saranell continued as we followed where my feet instinctively knew where to go.

"Three months is a long time to wait, I know, but they sent us proper ones this time, blessed by the High Priestesses at the lead Temple at the foot of Mount Hyjal."

I swallowed down the slight nausea that had become commonplace in my morning rituals. We had passed the neat silverleaf hedges, and the expansive peacebloom plot stretched out before us. It was too early in the morning for them: all of the blossoms were curled into tight buds, waiting for the light of mid-morning to open up.

We reached the circular clearing in the sea of peacebloom. The High Priestess paused at the entrance, turning back to speak directly to me. Just beyond her was the shrouded altar, nothing more than a carving of Elune Herself under a small archway. It was where I took my prayers every morning and every evening, and three months ago, under the light of the full moon, gave my innocence to a man that in the end, I knew nothing of.

"I know that I have asked this of you before, but some of the artifacts that the rogue took when he fled the Temple were priceless. You were in charge of his care: did he happen to mention to you any location that he was headed, family, any identifiers?"

I took a deep breath, and recited what I had already told them many times. "The night he left, we only spoke a few words of farewell. He did not disclose to me where he was going."

The High Priestess's face looked like she only half-believed me, and to distract myself from it, I pretended to examine the shrine behind her. It was a simple carving, and the only detail that made it stand out was the half-circle of moonstones that surrounded the Goddess's feet. Or at least it used to be a half-circle: the largest moonstone in the center was missing. I frowned, pushing past Saranell to get a closer look. My heart dropped into the pit of my stomach as a realization hit me: I was here praying last night, like I did every day. I prayed, and I waited in quiet for a longer time, wondering with waning hope if this time was the time that he would return as he promised he would.

Last night the shrine was complete.

Someone had been here in the still of the night, and stolen a gem from the statue.

_I will return._

_To this very spot._

Saranell gasped loudly when she saw the hole where the missing gem had been. "Someone has broken in and desecrated the shrine!"

She reached down to feel the bare spot. There were dull knife marks around it, as if it had been pried out in a hurry. She turned back to me, her face turning red in astonishment. "Did you see anything out of place last night at prayers?"

I pressed my eyes shut so tight I saw stars as I shook my head, and wobbled where I stood. One tear ran down my face, and then I opened my eyes, refusing to let any more fall.

"High Priestess, I will be leaving the Temple."

Saranell had been inspecting the shrine for any other discrepancies in increased distress, and now she turned back to me, shocked.

"Abilene?"

I swallowed hard, and smoothed the front of my loose robe tight against my belly. The soft curve was unmistakable, and had been for a couple weeks. It would soon be impossible to hide, and I was anticipating my quickening at any time.

Recognition finally flickered across the High Priestess's face and for a moment she just stood there, her mouth agape. I rushed in to fill the quiet gap.

"I'd like to return someday, after...after my duties are done."

Saranell stepped to me and laid a comforting hand on my shoulder. Her voice was quiet as she spoke.

"Abilene, the rogue, he didn't-"

I shook my head, wishing to my now silent Goddess that this conversation was already over, or that it would never have to happen. "No. It was consensual."

Saranell's face flickered through a range of emotions. She took her hand from my shoulder and tucked them into her sleeves. "There will always be a place for you within the Temple of Elune."

Silence grew in between us as we grasped for what else there was to say. Saranell cleared her throat finally, and seemed to reach a decision in her mind.

"I am sorry for this situation you are in, Abilene." She glanced back at the desecrated shrine amidst the unopened peaceblooms. "Do you think that he would ever return, if he knew?"

I shook my head slowly, feeling acutely the hole in my chest where my heart had been, before a blue-haired rogue with pretty words had stolen it from me.

"No," I whispered, my tears finally getting the best of me. "He was, after all, only a thief."

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**End Notes: This is the end. You didn't miss anything. I feel that some of you might have some questions, so if you are all interested, leave me some in the comments or PM and I will answer them publicly in another chapter. I am fully anticipating returning to my house tomorrow with my email on fire :).**


	11. Bonus Chapter---Author Notes

I can see that a lot of you have more questions than you have answers at this point. And honestly, if so many of you are still confused...I did not do my job as well as I thought I did. So I am going to do something a little different: I am going to walk everyone through what happened, and try to answer all private/comment messages in this post. If you are still confused after that, feel free to leave me hate mail :).

1\. First and Foremost: REYLORAN MANIPULATED ABILENE FROM THE START. There are a special breed of people out there who love nothing more than to twist the truth to confuse and get what they want. He is a master at this. Every word out of his mouth, every piece of body language that he projected to her: it was a deception. He was injured, and landed in a Temple full of women, one of which he thought was cute and more than that, completely unapproachable. He was interested in getting laid, and he was interested in breaking her heart. I do think that he did like her: but in the end, it had no bearing on what he did to her.

2\. Names have power: mystery has power. Abilene clung to her secrecy and her mystery, and Reyloran strove to unravel that. Every single mystery that she revealed to him, was a gift that he did not deserve. Yes, he did give her his name first: but to a thief, his name has so much less power than hers. It was a gateway to get everything else. Which brings me to the next point:

3\. How did Abilene fall for him so easily, if he was obviously being deceptive? Well, that's a question you'll have to ask yourselves, Readers...after all, my goal was to make Abilene fall in love with him, and somehow he took nearly every one of your hearts as well. Also, this is a very sparse, snapshot type of story: I think that in the background, there were other conversations, other instances, words spoken and compliments given at the right time, that all painted this picture to capture Abilene 100%. This is like her memory of the events though: it's imperfect, and she only remembers the most important parts.

4\. What was the motivation for him to come back to that spot but not see her? The answer, my friends, is back in chapter six. Chapter Six is a very important chapter, and in hindsight, you can see just how far he goes: after very subtly insulting what Abilene is doing, he then makes amends by very deliberately calling her by her name. It is my belief that he says her name often, now that he has it, and each time makes it sound like that name is the most important word on Azeroth. His goal is to get her to show him the rest of the Temple, so he can scope out what might be valuable and portable. So that moment in the garden, when he hands her that flower and says those sweet words? You'll notice she spent the rest of the time focusing on that, and not how he was exploring the surrounding area, where he found the shrine of moonstones. He possibly, if he were more healed, would have been able to run off then, but he saw some things he wanted "liberated" at that point, and he wasn't quite done playing his game yet...

5\. In conclusion to the above, he told her he would return to that very spot because he had already decided, before she came to him the night he left, that he was going to come back and steal that moonstone. That was why he took her there to be alone together and to finalize his ruse. I assume he spent at least a little time examining the stone to see if he could take it then, and realized he needed more tools, so he said, with all truthfulness, that he would return to that spot.

6\. On that note; chapter 9? That conversation happened mid-coitus. There's a reason she's crying, and it's not because he's leaving. He's no longer interested in making her fall in love with him, he's taking what he wants. You can fill in the rest.

7\. One final note: Reyloran, I am nearly positive, never outright lies to Abilene. He would be a poor manipulator and thief if he had to resort to lying. Instead he avoids questions, re-arranges answers, and in general says whatever he can to persuade her that even though she may suspect he is a bad person, she chooses to trust him anyway.

I hope that helps a little bit of the confusion. I will be happy to answer any other questions in PMs. This week is Easter, and after that I will post the next chapter of Outcast. Thank you for reading!


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